


New Year's

by Trashfire



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Button Popping, F/M, Feeding Kink, Fluff and Smut, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, Shopping, Tight Pants, Weight Gain, chubby hopper, everyone else is background - Freeform, only adults get it on, polyamory teens, the kids are not involved in anything smutty at all because they are children, this is mainly a hopper/joyce fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-04 04:43:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12763422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashfire/pseuds/Trashfire
Summary: He wanted to present a better version of himself. Too bad that better version was a few years and a few pounds ago.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trash. And also writing this while on an incredible amount of cough medicine from my deathbed (I'll probably be better soon if I don't die).   
> Apologies if anyone is OOC or the writing is weird considering I haven't written basically anything in years.

Hopper grunted while he sucked in his belly to button up his slacks. He hadn't worn them in years to be honest. He knew he was lying to himself when he pulled them out of the closet, still neatly pressed. He didn't need to wear nice clothes. Usually.

But he had been invited to Joyce Byers' New Year's Eve party, and he didn't want to go in his jeans. He wanted to present a better version of himself. Too bad that better version was a few years and a few pounds ago.   
He sighed and tugged the pants down, stepping into his usual jeans. Even those were getting a little snug. 

"I'm going out," he called to El, who was currently engaged in whatever was on the TV. He saw her nod slowly, not tearing her gaze away from the screen.

"You wanna come?" He asked. She stood up and walked over to him. 

"Yes," she donned a coat and smiled when he placed a knitted hat over her head. 

"It's cold out," he explained, zipping his own jacket up.  
They drove in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"Gotta get new pants," Hopper said, pulling into the parking lot of the little shopping center. 

"Ice cream." El stated, but Hopper could tell she was asking by her expression. 

"Yeah, sure, but isn't it a bit cold for that?" He was a little hesitant because the whole point of this journey was to cover the fact that his middle was spreading. Ice cream wouldn't help the situation.

"Ice cream." That made it final. 

They entered the store, it was fairly empty, most people were home preparing their own parties. A sense of normalcy that put Hopper on edge. 

The pair browsed, El trying on different hats and settling on a bright yellow woolen cap with a pompom on top. She clutched it to herself as they continued to walk around. 

Jim finally pulled a pair that would have never fit him a few years ago, and stepped into the dressing room.   
They fit, but were still a tad on the tight side. He shrugged and bought them anyway, mentally promising to lose weight that year. He was just sick of shopping and anxious to see Joyce.


	2. Suck it In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't get crushes kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might post the third chapter tonight

With a dull hope Jim led El towards the car, but she stopped on the sidewalk. 

"Ice cream," she said flatly.

He thought she might have forgotten. She had not. He turned and smiled at her, half out of an annoyance with himself and half at Eleven in that goofy hat. 

"Alright, I guess we can," he gripped his shopping bag. He wouldn't get one.

He got one. 

It was no secret that Hopper had a sweet tooth. Cookie dough ice cream may be a weakness that even he couldn't overcome. El swung her legs under the table, licking her ice cream cone, careful not to let any drip. Hopper was scraping the bottom of his bowl with the spoon when a voice started him.

"I see you two are already celebrating," Joyce Byers was standing behind him, arms full of bags. Hopper lept up as if a fire had been lot under his chair and turned to face her, sucking in his gut, even though his tee shirt still stubbornly clung to his midsection.

"Oh, hi Joyce," he greeted her, stepping in front of his empty bowl. He'd never cared about his weight this much before. Being unable to fit into his pants must have been more of a reality check than he realized. 

"Just doing some last-minute shopping," he explained, "and you know kids," he gestured at Eleven, who knitted her brow but didn't respond. 

"Yeah," Joyce grimaced, rearranging the bags in her arms, "You two coming tonight?"

"Yup, wouldn't miss it," Hopper said a little breathlessly, still struggling to keep his belly in check. He could feel the blush creep up his neck, heading for his cheeks. Damn it damn it damn it! 

"Well save some room, there's gonna be plenty of food, Dustin is bringing a whole bunch of mac and cheese!" Joyce smiled and Hopper almost relaxed. That smile would kill him. 

"Don't worry, I can pack it away." He mentally kicked himself.

"I know," she quickly eyed him up and down and smiled again. Hopper was sure she could see him blushing. Why did he have to say that? Why did he draw her attention? And, more importantly, when had she noticed?

He was still standing there as she walked away. He finally relaxed, feeling his jeans once again strain against his belly. 

"Don't get crushes kid," he said to Eleven when they got into the car, "you'll do dumb things," like go to stupid parties and buy bigger pants, he mentally added.


	3. Thanksgiving Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little Thanksgiving nugget and some quality hints (okay more than hints) about Joyce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post something on this holy day of eating. ;)

Joyce stood in front of her bedroom mirror, trying to get her hair under control. The brisk wind had caused it to fly away from her head, in a not so attractive fashion. Sure took a deep breath and calmly accepted her fate of a bad hair day. Today of all days.

It wasn't that she was overly invested in Thanksgiving. She couldn't bring herself to give a single fuck about what the holiday was supposed to symbolize. It was her favorite holiday (barring Halloween) for a much less noble reason. And it wasn't for the football game.

She went to the kitchen, where her mother was fretting about, making sure everything was just right. Joyce leaned against the wall, crossing her arms.

"Dinner time yet?" She asked, causing her mother to finally notice her.

"Yes, has that friend of yours shown up yet?" Her mother pulled a plate of potatoes out of the oven. 

"Yeah, he's in the parlor," Joyce didn't wait for her mother to give her a job and quickly exited the room. 

Jim was sitting on a floral couch looking out of place as a cactus in a swamp. He smiled as she walked in. 

"Let's just ditch this place and have a smoke?" He suggested.

"Aren't you hungry?" Joyce responded, pressing down her anxiety. She wanted him here, but only if he wanted to be here. For her, it wasn't really about spending time with her crazy family. 

"Not really a huge turkey fan," Jim said. 

Joyce spent that Thanksgiving in the cemetery smoking butts with Jim Hopper.


	4. She's Weird But not That Weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> El and Hopper go to The Byers' New Year's Eve party and Joyce is .... well, she's Joyce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, still writing this. Tell me what you think.

He felt a little better about the situation getting dressed again, this time with pants that fit. Hopper cast a nervous glance at the red button up shirt draped over his bed. He had worn it more recently, but he cursed himself for not buying a new shirt as well. If worst came to worst, he could always wear it open over a nice t shirt, he thought to himself, pulling it over his shoulders.

 

It buttoned, thank God. Granted, it was a tiny bit snug, but he could live with that. He made another promise not to overdo it at Joyce’s house, maybe a beer, peck a little at food, get a New Year’s kiss, then get on with his life. Okay, well, a New Year’s kiss from Joyce was a lot to hope for, but there’s no harm in hoping, usually. 

 

El was waiting for him on the couch, wearing a nice blue dress, her curls held back by a headband. She had spread some sort of pink monstrosity consisting of mostly glitter across her eyes. Hopper smiled, she looked adorable. 

 

“Like the getup?” He asked, twirling around.

 

“Yes,” El stood, and twirled herself, “Like the getup?” she repeated back to him.

 

“Where’d ya get the glitter?”

 

“Mike gave me his sister’s old make up,” she explained, heading to the door. 

* * *

  
  


Hopper’s hands were sweating on the wheel, the last time he had felt like this was years ago. He was a rebellious teen, and decided he’d rather hang out in a graveyard than suffer through dinner and celebrations with family. He did regret missing out, but there was nothing to do now, well, except go in. He was frozen behind his wheel.

 

“Coming?” El was standing outside the truck, door open, and staring at him with her big eyes. 

 

“Yeah,” He got out of the truck and walked with her to the door. The sun was just setting as he knocked, the door swung open before he could even bring his hand to his side. Mike smiled, looking like a Rockwell painting. El hugged him then dragged Hopper into the living room with a strong grip. 

 

The tiny room was packed with people. The six kids sitting in a little group away from the adults, those weird teenagers had taken over a couch, and the few grown ass people were standing awkwardly in a circle near the tv holding beers. Hopper stood in the doorway after closing the door, itching in his own skin, and uncomfortable.

 

Joyce burst from the kitchen holding a plate with a single Eggo Waffle in one hand and a beer in the other. She spotted El first.

 

“Hi honey!” She smiled and handed El the waffle, “I know you like these, Mike told me, so I figured I’d make you feel more at home,” she turned to her son, “Will, baby, can you keep an eye on the oven? The ham only has a few more minutes and I don’t want it to burn,” Will got up and went to the kitchen.

 

Joyce turned to Hopper. Her smile widened. He felt like someone gut punched him with butterflies when he saw how her eyes sparkled from the Christmas lights on the tree in the corner. He almost held his breath as she advanced, and he began to feel like a deer in headlights. When had this crush come back? Had it ever left? 

 

Every ounce of him was paying attention to her, and only her. The noise in the room faded from his mind, and he was hyper aware of how close she now was to him. She pressed the beer into his hand.

 

“Hi Hop, glad you could make it,” she said, and he caught her look him up and down for the second time that day, “Like the shirt, ‘s it new?” Hopper could tell that she may have had a few drinks. Nothing too serious, but there was a certain quality Joyce’s voice took on when she was drinking, and he knew it well.

 

“No, few years old, still fits,” he said, taking a small sip of beer. The plan would be to nurse that single bottle as long as possible. He did not want the shirt to become more snug than it already was. Joyce’s smile turned down a barely perceptible notch, before she rekindled it. 

 

“Well,” she clapped her hands, “The food is just about done, how about you help me out in the kitchen?” She grabbed his arm and dragged him with just as much force as El had a few minutes prior. He turned to make sure she was doing okay before he entered the kitchen. El wasn’t even looking in his direction. 

 

“Thanks Will,” Joyce said, patting the boy on the shoulder, “You can go back now,” she kissed the top of his head. Will ran out of the kitchen like a bullet and joined his friends.

 

Hopper awkwardly leaned against the fridge as Joyce bent to take a ham out of the oven and he looked everywhere but at her. More food than he had seen in years aligned the counter and table. It looked more like a Thanksgiving feast than a New Year’s Eve spread. He bit his lip with regret, remembering he had vowed to diet, not to mention he wasn’t sure how well the buttons on his shirt would hold if he ate as much as he longed to. To make matters worse, his eyes fell on a beautiful chocolate cake, complete with strawberries. His mouth watered, and his eyes nearly joined in.

 

“Here we go!” Joyce placed the ham on the only section of the counter that was bare and took off the oven mitts. Hopper had another small sip of beer as she leaned on the counter, producing a hidden beer from amongst the food and took a swig, “You alright Hop? You seem...weird, sorry,” she shook her head, “Maybe it’s the beer, I barely drink anymore, and this is my first one, it’s almost gone though.” She bit her lip and looked down for a moment.

 

“Just the usual, stuffing myself into this getup took a lot out of me,” he joked, gesturing at his outfit.

 

“You don’t look,” she paused and he could see her cheeks coloring, “ _ stuffed _ into it,” the way she emphasized the word stuffed came across as odd to him, but then again, Joyce Byers was an odd woman. She seemed to realize it was weird and she quickly shoved her beer into her mouth. 

 

“Shoulda seen me in the pants I tried on earlier,” Hopper said with a self depreciating laugh. Joyce choked on the beer she was finishing.

 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” she said, turning around to grab a towel from one of the cabinets. She rubbed it over her face, but Hopper could see her ears turning a dark shade of pink. 

 

“Wasn’t funny to me,” he grumbled, “Had to buy new pants and ever-” Joyce cut him off suddenly, still avoiding looking him in the eye.

 

“I’m gonna tell everyone food’s done,” she disappeared from the kitchen quicker than her son had just minutes before. 

  
Hopper didn’t move. Yeah, Joyce was weird but, she wasn’t usually,  _ this weird. _


End file.
